more BCBS 💩

If you are just joining us, you may want to read the previous post. Alas, I have not been a consistent story teller, so the beginning isn’t too far back either 😉 

So my boobs….We made it to Colorado Springs in early December. We settled into our holiday pet sit & I finally saw a doctor. 

I had an appointment with one doctor, that was my first mistake. My second mistake was not diving down the doctor Google hole sooner. Or maybe it was my saving grace… When I originally called for an appointment for the “end all be all of breast surgeons” I was not given an appointment with her, but rather some other doctor. That doctor would offer me implants or another option I had never heard of & one I found very little information about online. Her response to what I wanted was, “yeah, we don’t really do that here.” 

There was also no sense of urgency from the doctor or the nurse navigator, who God bless her, would take the brunt of my fear & frustration over the next few weeks. So little urgency, that the nurse navigator didn’t push back at all when I wanted the later surgery appointment over the one two weeks earlier.  The compounding issue with my first appointment, is that Dave did not go with me. Why, because we were locked in a stubborn tango of control & emotions & denial & neither of us knew what was the “right” thing to do. Thankfully, that would pass.

My next appointment would be with an oncologist, who both questioned why I had come to see her so early in the process & berated me for not coming in sooner! Erin & Dave joined me for this appointment & I wouldn’t have made it through without them. The doctor brought me to tears with her accusations about my lack of urgency & her straightforward remarks, that she “didn’t care what certain tests revealed, she would pump me full of all the chemo & then some.” I left there in an absolute daze 😵‍💫 Within the week, between Christmas & New Year’s, I would dive headlong into self advocacy & find a new team of doctors! 

What happened next was a whirlwind of appointments & bloodwork. All while we were pet sitting 🐶 I saw a new breast surgeon the first week of January & was put on their schedule less than 3 weeks out! Dave came with me to that appointment & every appointment thereafter.  Every next step seemed liked the right one. My breast surgeon gave me options, she offered her opinion & preference but never pushed my decision. My new oncologist is a doll. She was gentle & compassionate with my concerns about the perceived urgency & assured me I had time.  

I decided on the double mastectomy, even though my breast surgeon preferred a breast sparing lumpectomy & reduction on the other side. So many factors went into this decision. Although I did not have any cancer genes when tested & the likelihood of anything in the left breast was incredibly small, nearly every woman in this new sisterhood I spoke with had had issues with margins or recurrence. Not to mention, standard procedure for lumpectomy is to require radiation &/or chemotherapy.  I decided to be one & done with this portion of the surgery. Radiation, chemo & reconstruction would all be concerns for another day.

January 29th came & went & so did my 40DDs.  The double mastectomy would be a “short” surgery in comparison to the 10 hour reconstruction. Thankfully I got to come “home” to the therapy cat we were pet sitting. My original surgery date was actually after this pet sit, so rescheduling turned out to be purrrrfect 😉  We, & by that I mean Dave, would move house four times during recovery, while managing follow up appointments & planning next steps. We waited anxiously for the final pathology. Days before my 50th birthday 🎂 we got the call we had hoped for, my test number was very low, 9 out of 100, which meant no chemo or radiation ☢️ I was given the option to enter one of two randomized studies for women of my age & results. You will not be surprised to know that I declined. 

Remember that first oncologist who said, “ she didn’t care about test results…” Never have I ever been more thankful that I listened to my gut, my God, my intuition 💜 

I celebrated 50 🎂 cancer free! The first part was done ✅ The hard part came next.

Fortuitously, the plastic surgeon on my new team happened to be the ONLY doctor in southern Colorado that regularly did the reconstruction I wanted. That did not stop me from getting a second opinion. A long time friend that was equally new to the sisterhood, about a year ahead of me in diagnosis & procedures, was an immense comfort through this whole ordeal. She recommended her plastic surgeon in Austin, with whom she was very happy. The fact of the matter is, I actually spoke with her plastic surgeon before I changed teams. Dr. Potter was a huge resource of information about everything, specifically outcomes. What did I want at the end of all this? What were all the options? What were the financial & insurance ramifications of multiple major surgeries? 

Both of my potential plastic surgeons had incredible records & references with photos to match. I’ve never looked at so many boobs on the internet 🤣 

Again, there were so many big & small decisions that had to be made… Could I make the drive from CO to TX & back? Where would we “live” in either town? How close did we need to stay for follow ups or God forbid, complications? In the end, which was really only the middle, we decided to stay in Colorado Springs with the same plastic surgeon who worked on me through my mastectomy. 

Yes, these were the months I questioned everything we had done with our lives… selling our house, traveling, being vagabonds 🛻 I worked through my grief all over again, denial, bargaining, anger, depression. When I considered walking into traffic, I decided it was time to call my therapist.  Every part of this was hard, it is still hard even as I write this nearly eleven weeks post reconstruction & a week before my NEXT surgery.

But I digress. Near the end of April we settled into an AirBnB in Colorado Springs, close to doctors, close to our son, Andrew & close to friends. April 29th, it was back to the hospital, this time for new boobs. I didn’t want implants because they come with their own set of difficulties, namely having them replaced every ten years. So instead I chose one of the most intense & invasive options, the DIEP flap method. In short, they took my belly fat & made it boobs. Two for one, tummy tuck & a boob job! I won’t go into a ton of details, but essentially this is a micro vascular surgery where they cut the blood supply vein to the belly fat & then graft it into the vessels in the chest wall 😮 That is a super simplified explanation but it makes for a softer boob & less chance of infection or rejection (& replacement) than breast implants.  Totally more than you wanted to know, but here you are….

I would not wish this recovery on my worst enemy. To add insult to injury, during surgery, a compression cuff & the blood pressure cuff competed with inflations & left me with a crazy painful pressure wound.  The following 2 weeks would be the most pain & terror I have ever experienced in my life. I would question my own sanity for choosing this, but choose it I did. I hated my plastic surgeon, just as he said I would. Days passed. Bulbs were drained. Drugs were taken, so many drugs 💊 

Here is a poem I wrote…

My brain is full of drugs

My heart is full of tears

My body is not my own

Well I guess it is

But the parts are all rearranged

I’m exhausted from rest

During this time of healing, Andrew came & took care of me. We watched Harry Potter & ate custard he brought from work 🍨 Dave & I celebrated our 28th anniversary 🥂 We felt incredibly cared for & loved, as friends brought us dinner & visited with us. For as horrible a time as it was, I will remember it as a time I was not alone. 

The healing continues. We are still on the road. We are back to seeking adventures. There are a few more details to sort out, but truly the worst is behind us. I am excited for what is ahead even if we are not really sure what that is….. 😬